in the palm of my hand (i hold your heart)
by aelias
Summary: Things we said and did.
1. soak

Prompt fills about Carol, Daryl, and others that I'm bringing over from my Tumblr for organizational purposes. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

When he finally reaches the gates, he bypasses the slaughter and finds Carol in the kitchen of their home, standing at the sink in just her bra and pants. Her shirt, the white cotton spotted with red like a candy cane, is floating in a soapy pool of water.

Daryl comes up behind her, sees the trembling in her shoulders, the stiffness of her spine, the tight knuckles of her hands as they grip the edge of the sink. She doesn't turn around, and Daryl places one hand on the space between her shoulder blades, fingers spreading across sun speckled skin. He feels her back bow as she lets out a shuddering sigh, shoulders hunching even further into herself.

He places his vest around those shuddering shoulders, then steps up beside her and reaches for the sponge.


	2. undone

"I killed Lizzie."

She came undone in the kitchen, bowing over the sink and covering her face with her hands. Daryl caught her, and together they managed to make it to her bedroom. Now, Daryl is leaning back against the bed's headboard, and Carol is curled at his side, head resting on his thigh, face turned away from him, towards the door. His hand is resting lightly on her hair, fingers gently scrunching her curls, but they freeze when she speaks. "What?"

"I met up with Tyreese after the prison fell. Found him with Judith, and Mika, and Lizzie. We stayed in a small house nestled in a grove, off the path to Terminus. We were going to stay there...we wanted to stay there." She lets out a shaky sigh, her shoulders rising and falling with the movement of her breath. Daryl moves his hand from her hair to her trembling shoulder and holds her firmly.

"Tyreese and I went to get water, and even though we weren't going to be gone long, when we got back...Lizzie had killed Mika. Stabbed her to death. She wanted to do the same to Judith. Wanted us to see how the walkers were just like us. That we weren't different. That we would come back." A lengthy pause followed. Daryl rubbed his thumb across the curve of her shoulder.

"She couldn't be around other people. Not with Judith. It wasn't safe for her." She stopped again, but this time when she spoke, her voice came out in a whisper quiet enough that Daryl had to lean down a little just to hear it. "I took her out to a field of flowers and I shot her."

Daryl expected something like what he had seen in the kitchen; heaves and bawls and anguish. But when she broke, it was almost silent. It started with the dampness that seeped into his pants underneath her cheek, and moved into the occasional sniffles and hitched breaths. Her unraveling was slow, like sand in an hourglass, and through it all, Daryl held onto her.


	3. crave

That was how Rick found them when he went looking for Daryl: Carol curled up at his side like a baby, fist pressed beneath her chin, Daryl's head back and to the side against the wall, his hand still resting lightly on Carol's curls. Rick tried to step back out, but the creak of the door had Daryl whipping his head up and Carol's eyes snapping open. They both relaxed when they saw who it was, but remained alert.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you guys."

"It's fine, Rick. We weren't really asleep anyway," Carol said, maneuvering up to a sitting position. Daryl's hand trailed down from her head but came to a stop at her shoulder. It was like he didn't want to be out of reaching distance from her. It made Rick's ears warm.

"How's Carl?" Daryl asked.

Rick looked down at the tips of his boots. "Denise said he's out of the woods, but..." _but could his son really be this lucky the second time around?_

"He's tough," Daryl said, forcing Rick's gaze to meet his. It was the most steady he had ever seen him look. "Got a tough daddy. He'll be okay."

Carol gave a small smile, and in that moment, for one split second, Rick wished it was just the three of them, their intimacy and camaraderie the only thing that he had to worry about or that mattered to him. There was a safety amongst them that wasn't present with anyone else, and Rick craved it with an ache that yawned wide in his chest.

"You're right," he said, offering up a brittle smile to match Carol's. "You're right. He'll be okay."

They remained like that, in the quiet, in their bedroom, in their home, as the sky outside darkened to black.


	4. things you said through your teeth

_"Don't."_

One word, spat out from the mouth of hell, and Daryl felt it puncture his heart. But it didn't stop him.

"No."

"Daryl, I swear—"

"You can't carry it anymore. You need to let it go. It's time."

The agony carved in her face almost made him retreat, almost allowed him to give in to what she wanted. But then he remembered those pressed, printed floral sweaters, her wide plastic smile, the slight tremor in her hands, and it forced him to reach forward and cup her face in his strong, weathered hands. She resisted his pull at first, then relaxed enough to let him draw her forehead to his.

 _"Let go now."_

Their kiss was salty and mournful, but the best one either of them had ever had. They broke apart, and Carol opened her eyes.

 _"I'll try,"_ she breathed into his mouth.


	5. things you said when i was sleeping

She knew the bed was soft, but even the sheets wrapped around her body proved to be too painful to bear. She tried to squirm out of them, but something ( _someone_ ) kept her swaddled.

"We need to see if her fever will break."

 _Rick_. The name manifested in her mind but never made it to her lips, so she continued to lay there, silently, in limbo.

"She's burnin' up, there ain't anythin' else we can do?"

Daryl, another name, another thought, another person there with her, and she turned her head toward the voice, ignoring the ache in her neck as she did so. She couldn't open her eyes, but she could see his shadowy image behind her eyelids.

Someone took her hand, and she let the wave crest and pull her under again.

Later, as she clawed back to the surface, someone was still holding her hand, but another had been added to her hair, fingers gently pulling and smoothing her curls.

"What if she doesn't get better?"

"She will."

"But what if she _doesn't?_ "

A sigh. A pause. "Then we do what we always do. Try to move on."

More silence. "...I don't think I can do that this time."

"You can, Daryl. And you will. That's what we do. We _try_."

The fingers in her hair stopped moving, but began to tremble, and she felt the shake all the way down to her toes.

 _"I can't try without her."_

The squeak of a chair leg against hardwood, then the hand in hers disappeared. _"You won't have to,"_ Rick's voice, closer to Daryl's, and Carol tried to open her mouth to agree. _Don't worry, Daryl,_ she tried to say. _He's right. I'm here. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere._

Instead, she allowed sleep to take her one more time.

* * *

Carol opened her eyes. Two pairs of blue stared back at her from above. Pink and puffy and wet, but dazzling and brighter than anything she had ever seen. _My angels_ , she thought, as their faces broke into relieved smiles.


	6. please, don't leave

After the herd came through, the community wasted no time in building itself back up again. The homes were cleaned out and the walls went up, rebuilt by people who no longer had any ill conceived notions about what the world was like, and what exactly it took to survive.

The graveyard had to be expanded, and that's where Daryl found Carol, kneeling in front of one of the white crosses. Even death was affected by Alexandria's pristine and clean environment.

He moved to stand next to her, his knee slightly bumping her shoulder, but she didn't react. She continued to sit, hands folded on her lap, staring at the cross with the three-letter name etched into its surface. Suddenly, Daryl felt like he shouldn't be there, and he began to move away.

Carol's hand reached out and pulled him back by pinching together the material of his pants. "Please, don't leave."

In answer, he sat down beside her, and together, they mourned another child in silence.


	7. hey, i'm with you, okay? always

Under the cover of darkness, sometimes Carol still lost herself to her memories. Memories of Ed, memories of her girls, memories of all the things she had to do to make it to where she was.

During those times, Daryl would always be there to bring her back, with his hands on her cheeks and his forehead pressed to hers. "Hey, I'm with you, okay?" he'd whisper into her mouth. "Always," he'd press against her lips, pulling her back into the light. It wasn't much, but it was enough. For them, it would always be enough.


	8. looks like we'll be trapped for a while

Luckily, the trap had sent them high enough that they were out of the walkers' reach, but it did nothing to disguise their very-much-alive human scent, and so the walkers stood below them, arms outstretched, fingers clawing at the bottoms of their shoes, like dogs barking up a cat in a tree.

"Of all the people to get caught in a new with, I'm glad it's with you two."

"Aw, I love you too, Rick."

"Shut it, Rick."

Since they would be unable to meet up with Glenn and Michonne, there was a good chance that the two of them would come looking for Carol, Daryl, and Rick, so they weren't too worried about their predicament. Just annoyed.

"Okay, whose hand is on my ass?" Carol whispered.

"..."

"Daryl, please, save this for the bedroom."

"Rick, 'm gonna put my boot so far up your ass—"

An hour and a half later, when Glenn had driven the walkers away and Michonne was able to cut them loose, Daryl made good on his promise.


	9. if you die, i'm gonna kill you

When Heath and Glenn brought Daryl through the gates, his body hanging between theirs, Carol was surprised that her first emotional reaction to the scene was _anger_. There was no logical reason for it, and when they got him lying down on a bed in the infirmary, her anger quickly gave way to worry and concern.

Later, after he had woken up and told Carol what had happened, she felt that familiar anger simmering in her veins.

"If you had a helmet—"

"Sure, I'll just stop by the nearest bike shop and pick out a real nice one—"

Her anger began to burn. Couldn't he see how serious this was?

"Daryl," she spoke, voice quaking slightly, "in this world where you could literally be _eaten_ to death, if you die in a motorcycle accident, I'm gonna kill you."

He almost laughed at her words, but Daryl saw how deadly serious her eyes were, how tightly she squeezed his hand. He sighed, and turned his over so he could interlock his fingers with hers. "I'll be more careful."

Her smile, though tearful, was bright and genuine. "That's all I ask.'


	10. things you said while we were driving

Her hands at his waist, fingers spread over his hipbones, was a touch Daryl didn't believe he'd ever feel again. He last felt this months ago, driving through a forested highway with his motorcycle's engine rumbling beneath them and the snarls of the dead following behind. Now, he traded in his motorcycle for a horse (not of his own choosing, of course, he'd rather take another bolt in the side than get back on another of these hellbeasts) and instead of a farm, they were leaving behind an abandoned house, making their way to a "kingdom." Still, the clopping of the horse's hooves and the side to side sway of their bodies matched the rhythm of his heart.

"Do you think they'll forgive me?" Carol's voice was a little shaky in his ear, and he could feel her chin resting on his shoulder.

Daryl turned his head slightly, just enough so that his cheek pressed into the cold tip of her nose. "They will. They'll understand." He paused, then met her eyes. "I did."

"Yes, but...," and Carol stretched her hands across his stomach, linking her fingers together. He could feel the pulse in her wrist pumping against his belly, and he couldn't remember the last time he felt something so soothing. "You're different," she whispered against the shell of his ear before dropping those warm lips and pressing them to the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

His throat had closed up, so in answer, Daryl held the horse's reins in one hand, placed his other over her interlocked fingers, and squeezed.


	11. things you said when you were drunk

"I don't want to talk about it," she said as they moved down to the basement of the church, the sacred wine coursing through their veins and warming their blood.

"I just want to forget it," she said as she unbuckled her pants, her boots, her shirt, letting the clothes slide softly down her arms and legs as Daryl did the same with his.

" _Help me forget it_ ," she whispered into his mouth as she dug her fingers into his oily, greasy, sweaty, beautiful hair and _pulled_ , falling back onto the surface of what had once been a Sunday school teacher's desk, pressing her fingers into the scars on his back and clutching him to her with every ounce of strength she had within her.

In the dark, with the voices of their family muffled above them, and Daryl's breath hot and wet against her pulse, he did as Carol asked.


	12. if i die, i'm going to haunt your ass

The herbal tea was expired. Still, Carol took out the sachet and dunked it several times into the mug of hot water, watching as the leaves worked their magic and turned the clear liquid into a honeyed yellow. Satisfied, she took the mug and walked to the back of the trailer, into the tiny bedroom where Daryl was resting.

After the war with Negan, after both Alexandria and the Kingdom had been reduced to ashes, Daryl took Carol's hand and led her into one of the Hilltop's trailers. Standing on the threshold, staring down at his boots, holding her hand in his, Carol answered his unspoken question when she stood on her toes and pressed her mouth to the corner of his.

In the bedroom, Daryl seemed to be sleeping soundly, curled up on his side with the covers pulled over his chin. Then Carol set the mug down on the nightstand, and a vicious cough wracked his frame. She placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling it shudder under his palm, and gave it a slight shake.

"Hey, I made you some tea. I think it'll help."

Without even opening his eyes, Daryl turned to his other side, giving her his back. "Nah, 'm fine. Just gotta let it pass."

Pursing her lips, Carol gave his shoulder another shake. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, it'll be good for you."

"Nah. Don't want it."

She didn't take offense at his comment, knowing it was less about him being ungrateful and more that he still, even now, struggled with accepting any form of help that wasn't his own.

But Carol could be stubborn too.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she leaned over his shoulder and pressed her mouth to his hot ear. "If you don't drink this tea, I will kiss you full on the mouth," she whispered.

This time, Daryl opened his eyes and turned his head enough so that he could trap her in his glare. "Don't you dare." Kissing her was a risk he wasn't willing to take. And she knew it, too.

Smiling, Carol closed her eyes and exaggeratedly pursed her lips, humming as she aimed for her goal.

Her lips met a clammy palm. "Jesus, fine, I'll drink the damn tea," Daryl grumbled, already pushing himself upright. His cheeks were splotchy red, but whether it was from fever or embarrassment she didn't know.

Victorious, Carol handed him the mug and redirected her original kiss to one of those splotchy cheeks. "Thank you."

"Yer annoyin'. If I die, 'm gonna haunt yer ass." But he brought the mug to his lips and took a healthy sip, hoping she missed the tiny smile he hid behind the rim.

She didn't.


	13. staring at the other's lips

Carol had given the house to Morgan, so she didn't expect to find herself back within its four walls. But here she stood on the threshold, shoulders aching and legs quaking, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Everything was as she had left it — baskets of rotting fruit in the back pantry, a copper kettle hanging over ashes in the fireplace, an unfinished romance novel resting on the top shelf of the bookcase.

Carol let her rifle slide from her shoulder to the floor before collapsing onto the couch, the adrenaline slowly giving way to exhaustion. She bent forward, elbows on her knees and head in her hands, and took several deep, calming breaths. She couldn't let the woman who lived in this house come back now. She was beyond that now.

Several rendezvous points were set up during the raid on the Saviors' outposts, and Carol's old haunt was one of them. Any and all hideaways were a necessity, so Carol didn't argue against the choice, but she had hoped she wouldn't be the first one to get there. Being alone was something she had once craved, but now she dreaded it.

Footsteps walked up the porch steps and stopped at the front door. Carol picked up her rifle and took aim as the door slowly opened, but she lowered it with a sigh of relief when Daryl stepped through.

Like her, Daryl looked like he was running on fumes, but there didn't seem to be any other injuries on his person. He let his crossbow drop to the floor with a clatter and leaned back against the closed door, head tilted back and eyes shut. He took a deep breath, and then opened his eyes and looked at her. "Tara and Morgan?"

Carol shook her head. "Not yet. It's just you and me."

Daryl nodded and resumed his previous position. Concerned, Carol approached him, fingers stretching out and brushing his shirt. "Are you okay?"

Without opening his eyes, Daryl reached up and clasped Carol's hand in his, placing both of them over his heart. She could feel the rapid pounding beneath her palm, and spread her fingers wide, as though she could grasp and hold it tightly.

Daryl once again opened his eyes and looked at her, the fringes of his hair obscuring his vision. "And you?"

Carol nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay, too."

It was a blanket statement that didn't just refer to the present, and somehow, Daryl seemed to understand that. Because the last time they were here, in this house, she wasn't okay, was far from being okay. But things were different now. She knew Glenn and Abraham were gone. She knew there was a war and that she had to play her part in it. She had told Daryl it would cost her her life if she fought, but here she was, standing in front of him decked out in Kingdom armor and armed to the teeth, ready and willing to fight for her family. Here she was, with her warm, small hand on his chest, her eyes liquid blue, her lips…

Her bottom lip was torn where she chewed on it, but they were still petal-pink and soft-looking, the corners of them upturned slightly in that smile she only seemed to give him. Then her eyes, which had been fixed on his, flicked down to his lips for a quick moment, then back up to his gaze. She was asking him a question, and this time, he decided it was time to answer.

Pushing off the door and standing tall, Daryl tilted his head down, down until his lips were touching hers in the gentlest meeting. They stayed like that for a few seconds, neither moving, just feeling each other's touch and heat, before they mutually pulled away, but not far enough that they couldn't feel each other's breath on their face.

With one of her quiet smiles, Carol took Daryl's hand and led him to the couch, where they sat and waited for the rest of their comrades.


End file.
